The Northern Wind
by Munnin12
Summary: The North is a harsh place. Storms, Dragons, and criminals run rampant. Cursed by a fire drake, Cana left the North, content to never see a dragon again. But old friends are hard to say no to even with a dwarven king who is not so inclined to her presence in his company.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Trees burned like torches, homes lay in ruin, and the dwarf city of Erebor was lost. The people of Dale stood upon a hill, to one side a once beautiful Dale and to the other, the small Lake-Town. Lord Girion, disgraced by his failure to kill the terrible Smaug, sat in silence as his people gave into hysteria.

A dark figure upon a thundering horse came upon the group, silencing them with its great horse. The people looked up in fear at the figure, wondering what sort of disaster would fall upon them now.

The figure looked out at the burned countryside and the destroyed Dale, then looked back at the group.

"You are fleeing from Dale, are you not?" The figure asked, her voice alerting them that she was a female behind her drawn cloak.

"Why would you want to know?" A distressed guard growled.

The woman removed her hood allowing them to see her pale face and dark hair. Her hair was cropped much shorter than the average woman's, her long bangs swaying in the eyes and the ends of her hair tickling her shoulders. Her kind hazel eyes looked in pity at the survivors.

"I just wanted to know if anyone had escaped the calamity," the woman replied quietly. She drew herself up, her back straight with an air of authority. "I am Aliena of the Northern Wastes. I had been checking up on the Master of Lake Town when I heard the destruction. I am here to escort you to Lake Town where you will find rest and comfort."

"What is a woman from the North doing in Dale?" Lord Girion asked, getting up from his rock.

The woman smiled cheerfully. "My business is my own my Lord, but know I mean no ill will towards you or your people."

"Your name seems familiar yet I cannot place it," Girion replied.

"You may have heard of me, but that is not important," The woman said quickly, turning her horse around. "Come we must hurry to Lake Town before nightfall, lest the dragon begins more destruction."

The woman did not speak anymore. She led them to Lake Town without incident. The Master seemed miffed by the sudden influx of people, but Girion caught the Northern woman's glare that forced the Master into doing what she asked. Later, Girion asked a local why the Master bowed to the woman's will.

"You don't know?" the local replied, baffled. "They call her the Queen of the Wastes. She came down from the North years ago and established a small colony which became this town. The Master must obey her commands or she will find someone else to keep order while she is away. Be wary though, some say she is a witch."

Girion never saw the mysterious woman again, but wondered if the tall tales he heard about her held any truth. 

60 years later….

"Come on Gandalf!" A melodious voice called through the forest, as the grey wizard ran through the forest.

"If you would slow down, we could have a proper conversation!" Gandalf called back, frustration evident in his voice.

The old wizard tripped on an exposed root and almost fell on to the ground if a hand hadn't grabbed him. Gandalf steadied himself and faced the woman he had been chasing. Her dark, short pixie cut hair messed up by her run from the wizard.

The woman let out a laugh that almost seemed like a melody. "You should have told me your old bones could not handle a chase Gandalf, otherwise I would have slowed just for you!" she mocked.

The wizard glared at the woman. "You are almost as old as I am Cana, you should watch who you call old."

"At least I haven't grown lazy!" The woman, Cana, laughed, her voice carrying throughout the forest.

Gandalf shook his head as he sat down on a nearby log, Cana swinging up into a tree. She lay on the low branch, her head propped up by her arm.

"So tell me about this quest my dear Gandalf, I am dying to know your scheme to retake the Lonely Mountain," a smile unfurling on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Cana POV**

A chilling wind blew threw me as I walked through the small village of Hobbiton. I was late, _really_ late. But Gandalf knows I am not one for being on time. I saw small hobbits stare at me as I walked by. I probably looked menacing with my fur cloak hiding my broadsword and various knives, my steel bracers glinting in the moonlight.

Maybe it is my menacing appearance that throws people off when I crack a joke or pull a prank. That's why I choose to wear a smile as much as possible, but being of the cold I always make my way back to a scowl.

I reached the last hill in Hobbiton and looked up to see Gandalf's faint mark glowing upon a green door.

"Finally," I breathed out. For such a small peoples, the Shire is a confusing and vast land.

I went to knock on the door and found it ajar, and the deep throated voices of dwarves came from within. I left out a deep sigh. Gandalf had told me about the dwarves, led by the Dwarf Prince, but I do not believe they will enjoy my presence. Gandalf assured me that they would not mind, but he does not know how deep a dwarf's stubbornness can go.

I pushed the door open quietly, and then properly closed it. The voices became clearer.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and

not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

Suddenly the air filled with voices, denying the insult of their intelligence or asking what had just been said.

Another voice piped up. "We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!"

"And you forget," A similar voice added. "We have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."

I stifled a laugh at the thought of Gandalf fighting a dragon. I started towards the voices, trying to be quiet as the conversation turned to Gandalf.

"Oh, well, now, uh, wouldn't say that, I," Gandalf started struggling.

"How many, then?" A dwarf asked.

"Uh, what?" I was almost at the dining room; I could see a dwarf sitting in a chair at the end with a small hobbit standing beside him, too busy listening to the conversation to notice my approach.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!"

"Hm." I was at the doorway of the dining room and couldn't help but add into the conversation as the dwarfs started arguing among themselves.

"Yes Gandalf, give us the number of how many dragons you have killed," I joined in, ducking into the alcove, whispering to my old friend.

Gandalf looked up at me with a shocked expression, the dwarf I had seen from the hallway suddenly leaping up.

"Shazara (Silence)!" The dwarf glared at Gandalf. "What is the meaning of this?" he growled gesturing to me.

Gandalf looked back at me cautiously. "This… is Cana Westphalia; she will slay our dragon."

I resisted the feeling of smacking Gandalf as my eyes narrowed at him. He said nothing of this when he explained this little venture.

_Flashback_

"_Go on Gandalf spit it out before I lose my patience," I urged._

_Gandalf gave me some history of the story of Erebor and the line of Durin._

"_That's not what I wanted, what would I be doing Gandalf? Why would you need my help?" I asked, pulling out a knife and twirling it around as I became bored._

"_I need someone who will be able to guide us through Mirkwood."_

_I laughed. "Gandalf if I step foot in that forest we would be doomed. What's the real reason?"_

_Gandalf looked away from me. He muttered something I could not catch. "What was that?"_

"_I want you to protect the dwarves. You alone know how to best a dragon."_

"_That was a different life Gandalf. If I were to face a dragon, I would be lost to this world," I replied, any happiness leaving my face and replaced with a hard scowl. "Besides, the dwarves would see me as assume what I am. They would not see reason or believe me."_

_Gandalf shook his head. "You judge them too harshly."_

I did not. I saw as their eyes traveled up my face to my ears; my damned, pointed ears. I swear to Eru if they call me an-

"- elf." The dwarf at the head of the table growled at Gandalf. I didn't hear the statement but from his stance and scowl, it was not hard to guess the insult.

"I am no elf," I said quietly, malice and anger slipping into my voice.

"Miss Westphalia is from the Northern Wastes, she is not related to any elf nor is she one," Gandalf explained. "Her ears are the result some magic, not any elf blood."

The angered dwarf turned to me, his eyes full of hate. This must be the great Thorin Oakenshield.

"Her services are absolutely necessary and are non-negotiable," Gandalf pushed.

Why? There really is no need for my help. The dwarves could face the dragon on their own.

"Thorin, she has killed dragons before. Do not turn away her help," Gandalf pleaded.

Thorin gave me one last poisonous glance before sitting back down. All the other dwarves were silent, some of the younger ones looking at me in awe. I sighed, really slaying a dragon is not fun or worthy of awe… at least not the last one I killed.

"Now then…" Gandalf said, turning the conversation elsewhere.

"The front gate is sealed; there is no way into the mountain" A dwarf with a long white beard stated.

Gandalf gave a knowing smile. "That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," he said, producing an iron key.

Thorin looked at the key in wonder. "How came you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now," Gandalf said, handing the key to the dwarf prince.

I felt someone tap my arm. I looked behind me and saw the hobbit, looking shy and a bit nervous.

"I- I am sorry to pull you away, but there is still some food left in the kitchen," the hobbit offered, though when he mentioned the food, I saw a flash of frustration cross over his face.

"Thank you, I think I will eat in there, never enjoyed talking about the boring stuff," I said with a smile, ducking out of the dining room and entering the kitchen down the hall, seeing the mess that the dwarves had caused.

The hobbit had not followed; he had become entranced by the conversation. That was good; I didn't want company at the moment. I was too busy scowling at the fact Gandalf wanted _me_ to kill the dragon. I rubbed my face. After killing my third dragon, I was cursed, by its mate. The curse left me shaken and horrified. It changed my appearance to resemble an elf along with giving me a long life, but the dark consequences are more than the benefits of the curse.

I felt something cold in my mind, causing my spine to shiver. I _never_ want to face another dragon, much less slay one, again.

I heard a thump, shaking me from my brooding thoughts. I walked out of the kitchen and saw the small hobbit sprawled on the rug, a long document in hand. Gandalf got up and muttered something before picking up the hobbit and making his way down the hall. As he passed me, Gandalf gave me a shrug. I shook my head; if the document in his hand was a contract then that meant that the hobbit was going on this quest as well. Poor thing probably fainted in horror.

"Is it true?"

I turned my head and beheld two dwarfs, one dark haired and beardless, and the other fair haired with several braids. It had been the dark haired one that had asked the incredibly vague question.

"Excuse me?"

"Is it true that have killed dragons before?" The fair haired one clarified.

I nodded. "I did not do it for sport. The Northern Wastes are filled with the vile worms. I did what I had to do to defend my home."

The two nodded in understanding then mischievous smiles crawled across their faces. "Well then, welcome to the company!" they said in unison.

The dark haired one stepped forward. "I am Kili."

The fair haired one stepped up next. "And I am Fili."

"You are brothers?"

They nodded.

"Well I do hope you two won't cause too much trouble," I said with a smile.

They feigned shock. "What? Trouble? Us?" Fili exclaimed in shock as he looked at his brother.

"Never!" Kili replied.

The two brothers circled me, taking in my appearance. "Gandalf must be telling the truth," Kili said. "You would be very short for an elf."

My eyebrow twitched a little bit. "I am 5'4", a respectable height."

"You are not much taller than we are," Fili chimed in.

"Are you two looking to annoy me?"

Before the two could nod, Thorin came into the hallway. "Fili, Kili," he called.

The two turned and went to Thorin, gracing me with one last pair of mischievous smiles before filing into the living room.

Thorin gave me a glare before following the two brothers.

That's it, he hates me; probably will want to get rid of me.

"You owe me big time Gandalf," I muttered, as I went back to the kitchen to eat some amount of dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Cana's POV**

As I sat in the kitchen, nibbling on some bread I started hearing the dwarves hum. It was a haunting melody, with a deep sound and sadness evident in the dwarves that hummed. Abandoning the bread, I crept towards the living room where all the dwarves were sitting. I could feel the hot warmth of the fire emanating from the room. It was almost choking how hot it was.

Suddenly a deep voice started singing and other's joined in:

_Far over the misty mountains cold_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away ere break of day_

_To find our long forgotten gold_

_The pines were roaring on the height_

_The winds were moaning in the night_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread_

_The trees like torches blazed with light_

My chest grew tight as I thought of the images the song brought to mind.

_Flames were everywhere, devouring and burning everything in sight. Women and children running for their lives while men rallied to arms. The sudden roar of a dragon and another wave of dragon fire engulfed the small encampment. Someone called to me pleading me to help._

"Cana," an old voice pulled me from my memories.

I looked up at Gandalf.

When did I get on the ground? I sheepishly got off the ground. A strike of pain ran through me. I shuddered, leaning up against the wall.

"Are you all right my dear?" Gandalf asked, grasping my arm to hold me steady, concern evident in his voice.

"Y-yeah, apologizes Gandalf. It's just…" I looked past the wizard and saw the dwarves staring at me, some with concern, and Thorin in particular staring daggers at me. "I'm fine," I finished, my voice cold.

I pushed Gandalf away from me. "I need some air is all," I muttered walking to the door.

A boiling hot feeling in my chest was expanding, slowly spreading to my limbs. No no no! Stop. I threw open the door almost frantically. A cleansing cold wind washed over me, relieving the pain. I went out into the front yard, leaving the door open behind me. I threw off my fur cloak; I needed to cool off. The hole was homely, but with the fire going, with me in there, it felt like an oven.

I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't turn to face who had joined me outside.

"I am sorry," I stated, believing it was Gandalf, as I surveyed the quiet Hobbiton. "My being here was a mistake." The hot pain was slowly fading away. Curse this curse! It makes me so weak…

"Glad we see eye to eye on this."

I spun around, my eyes wide. It was not Gandalf. Thorin stood behind me, his arms crossed with a scowl firmly placed on his face.

"I do not want some she-elf slowing my company down," he continued, narrowing his eyes.

I let out a humorless laugh. "You understand nothing, dwarf."

"I understand that there is something wrong with you that worries even the wizard."

I resist wincing. Damn, I must have gotten too sucked into my memories. Gandalf should not have convinced me to come to this place.

"Yes," I said carefully. "But you lack the ability to listen. I am not an elf."

"Then why do you look like one?" Throin challenged me.

"Haven't we been over this?" I asked, partly in a mocking tone.

"You are hiding something."

The hot pain came back with a vengeance like an animal slamming against its cage. I put a hand to my chest, my breath becoming labored. I heard Thorin say something and the pain inside seemed to explode.

It was like everything had slowed. I looked at Thorin's retreating figure as he went back into the house. I could see the weak spots in his armor. I could hear his heartbeat like a drum in my ears. I started after him like a predator. Bloodlust drove me. I wanted blood. I wanted him dead. I wanted-

I stopped abruptly and looked around. What-? I looked to see Thorin shutting the door. What the hell just happened? I looked down and my hands were shaking. I had- no. The curse was getting strong. This was going to be a struggle if my curse already wanted to rip out the Dwarf Prince's throat.

"Cana, are you sure you are alright?" Gandalf now stood in the doorway.

"No," I looked into his old, kind eyes. "They do not want my help Gandalf, and with my curse, I will-," Gandalf cut me off.

"Enough. You will not harm anyone in the company, and they will appreciate your help."

I waved him away. "You are very optimistic," I said, reaching to pick up my cloak.

"Do not leave Cana, at least give them a chance," Gandalf pleaded.

"I will not push their leader."

"I know you Cana, an infuriating commanding officer never stopped you from doing what is right," Gandalf laughed quietly.

"And giving false hope to people going to their death is the right thing?" I challenged, raising my voice.

The door opened. "Mister Gandalf?"

I looked past Gandalf and saw the youngest dwarf sticking his head out.

"What is it Ori?" Gandalf asked not turning, holding me caught in a stare.

"Thorin told me to tell you that we are to depart tomorrow at dawn," the dwarf looked over at me. "And yourself miss, if you are coming."

Gandalf broke my stare to give a nod of appreciation to the small dwarf. The dwarf then closed the door, leaving us alone once more.

"His name is Ori."

"I don't care."

"He has two older brothers that are constantly trying to keep him out of trouble."

I knew what he was trying to do. "Gandalf, stop," I commanded, authority powering my voice.

"He was the most enthusiastic about facing the dragon."

No. Flashes of ages past came to mind.

_A young man with an infectious smile stood beside me. "Let's go we got this!" he cried._

"Adrian," I murmured.

"I beg your pardon," Gandalf asked, a smile of triumph on his face.

God I hate wizards. They are so manipulative.

I couldn't help but give him a smile that promised revenge. "I said I should have made you run more in that forest old man."

Gandalf let out a deep laugh and clapped me on the back. "I will see you tomorrow my old friend."


End file.
